


The stars will change, but you and me, we'll always stay the same

by aleanmeanaquamarine



Category: Ranger's Apprentice - John Flanagan
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Gay, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:14:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24227179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aleanmeanaquamarine/pseuds/aleanmeanaquamarine
Summary: Gilan and Lewis meet up at night.Halt, obviously, knows.
Relationships: (IMPLIED), Crowley Meratyn/Halt O'Carrick, Gilan Davidson/Lewis Kang
Comments: 11
Kudos: 52





	The stars will change, but you and me, we'll always stay the same

**Author's Note:**

> WOOHOO FIRST GILEWIS FIC
> 
> later edit: by the way, here is the [lewis info post](https://elizathehumancarrot.tumblr.com/post/617762043253194752/lewis-kang), complete with credit to the creators!

The stars are always prettier to look at when you’ve got someone else to look at them with. 

At least, that’s Gilan’s professional opinion on the matter- having watched the night sky with Lewis several times himself. He really doesn’t think anything can beat it. 

(Other than maybe talking to Lewis. Or holding hands with Lewis. Or kissing Lewis- and gods almighty, he’s really got it bad, huh.)

Gilan is, admittedly... a little bit distracted as he leaves the cabin. (Halt would have his head.) He absentmindedly fastens his cloak on, gently closing the door on his way out. The sun has been set for a while now, and the dim light makes it easier to slip through the night. He unconsciously blends in with the background, years of practice taking over as he moves from shadow to shadow. He knows these trees like the back of his hand, but it would never do for a Ranger to be caught off guard.

He reaches a little clearing in the middle of the forest, a patch of meadow with flowers sprinkled in among the green. There’s a blanket stretched out in the grass. Lewis is on top of it, leaning back on one hand and looking up at the sky. Gilan takes a second to lean against a tree and stare, just take in the scene. The moonlight washes over the landscape, casting it in a warm glow. He smiles softly. Never in a million years did he think he’d ever get so lucky- after all, being a Ranger is lonely, even from the early years of apprenticeship. He was always told to keep his distance, not get too friendly with the public. 

For a second, he wonders what Halt would think, seeing him now. (Seeing him with Lewis.) His smile fades, and the image of Halt’s face, creased with disappointment, sets a stone in his stomach before he pushes the thought away, sighing. He doesn’t know what he’d do if it came to choosing Halt or Lewis.

He creeps forward in the grass, quietly remembering how Lewis had barged into his life, ordering him to _sit down, shut up, and let me clean this wound, dumbass._ Gilan still shudders a little bit thinking about it- he’s scary, really, when it comes to medical issues. 

Gilan is close to Lewis now, and he reaches out, grabbing Lewis by the arm. He has a moment to think _oh, shit,_ before Lewis springs to his feet, pulling his knife out of its scabbard. Lewis spins around, and Gilan has to rely on his years of training, draws his saxe in an instant and deflects Lewis’ blade away with a scrape. 

“It’s just me, Lew.” There’s a grin on his face as he watches the tension drain out of Lewis’ body. Lewis sighs, and the knives are sheathed. 

“You’re a jerk.” Lewis shoves him, but there’s a hint of a smile on his face. Gilan just reaches out and takes Lewis’ hand, laughing a little.

“Aw, you _missed_ me,” Gilan teases, leaning in closer. Lewis huffs. 

“What makes you say that?”

Gilan raises an eyebrow, smirking. “Do I really have to remind you of all the times you’ve committed acts of violence against me? In comparison, the attempted stabbing was rather gentle- almost affection, coming from you.” At Lewis’ silence, he continues. “When I scare you, you tend to punch me, kick me, or, most notably, that one time you actually sliced me with your knife-”

“They’re reflex actions!” Lewis protests, cheeks flaming red in a way that Gilan can only describe as _adorable_. “If it bothers you so much, stop sneaking up on me.”

At Lewis’ pout, Gilan softens a little, planting a kiss on his temple. “It doesn’t bother me, Lew.” Lewis’ face still doesn’t change, and it’s then that Gilan notices that something’s wrong. He frowns, gently placing a knuckle underneath Lewis’ chin and tilting his head up so he can look Lewis in the eyes. “Hey. You wouldn’t hurt me.” Gilan puts a hand on Lewis’ waist. Lewis tightens his fingers around Gilan’s. 

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right, I wouldn’t, it’s just… hard. I don’t like it. Hurting people.” He looks away, then, as Gilan studies his face. “We lost someone, a kid today, and I try not to blame myself, these things happen, I just-” Lewis’ voice is rising, frustration coloring his tone, and he cuts himself off, shaking his head. He’s curled in on himself a little bit, and Gilan would have to be blind to miss the clear self-doubt in his body language. (He’s trained for this, really, so maybe he’s cheating.) Gilan watches Lewis for another moment before pulling him into his chest. 

“Everyone makes mistakes, Lew,” Gilan says in a quiet voice. He feels Lewis’ body all but melt against his, feels Lewis press himself a tiny bit closer. “I know I’ve made some that cost people their lives. It’s awful, but it’ll happen- and it has nothing to do with you, alright?” 

Lewis wraps his arms around Gilan, curling his fingers in Gilan’s cloak. He takes a deep breath. “Yeah. I… yeah.” Then, quieter, “thank you, Gilan.” Lewis pulls away, leaving just an inch of space between them. Gilan leans in and kisses his cheek, just above the corner of his mouth. 

“Anytime, darling.”

Lewis rolls his eyes, sitting down on the blanket and motioning for Gilan to follow suit. “Don’t call me that.”

A smile overtakes Gilan’s face. “You love it.” He slides closer to Lewis, presses their sides together. Lewis rests his head on Gilan’s shoulder. 

“Maybe so, but that doesn’t make it sound any less stupid,” he grumbles. Gilan pouts, turning to Lewis and cupping his face in his hands. Gilan pulls him into a kiss, eyes slipping shut. One of Lewis’ hands finds its way into his hair, the other resting on his shoulder. 

When they finally pull apart, they’re both out of breath. A smirk tugs at the corners of Gilan’s mouth even as their foreheads are pressed together. 

“Still stupid?”

Lewis snorts. “Shut up,” he says, taking Gilan’s hand again. “...I love you.”

Gilan pulls Lewis into another quick kiss, this one gentler than the last. “I love you too.”

Lewis smiles, soft and sweet, and it takes Gilan’s breath away for just a second. He knows he’s grinning like an idiot, but honestly, he can’t be bothered to do anything about it. 

“Look at the stars with me?” 

Gilan raises an eyebrow. “Didn’t take you to be such a romantic, _darling_.” Lewis scrunches his nose up, and wow, he's in love, and then Gilan can’t pay attention to that because a hand is reaching up to cover his mouth and suddenly, he’s caught in a wrestling match with the love of his life. 

He wins. Easily.

Gilan rolls off of Lewis, laughing breathlessly. He flops onto the ground, face-up, watching as the stars twinkle. The night air is chilling. Lewis makes a sound and presses closer to Gilan. Even as Gilan places his arm behind Lewis’ head to shield it from the ground, he can feel Lewis shiver a little bit. He frowns. 

“Here,” he murmurs, unclasping his cloak and draping it over Lewis. It’s the winter edition, made to be comfortable and warm. Lewis’ shivers subside as Gilan wraps the fabric a little tighter around him. He suppresses a smile at how large it is on him- he looks so small, tucked into it. “You’re adorable, you know that?”

Lewis glares at him, and Gilan gets the sense that Lewis knows _exactly_ what he’s thinking about. “It’s not _my_ fault you’re an absolute giraffe of a man.”

Gilan laughs, pressing a kiss into Lewis’ hair. “You just look so tiny…” He winces as he’s elbowed in the ribs. “Ouch…” he whines, and wow, Lewis is doing a godawful job at hiding his smirk.

“You had it coming.”

Gilan thinks about it for a second, then concedes the point. “Maybe I did.” There’s silence, for a second, as Lewis snuggles closer to Gilan, head almost on his chest, before he speaks again. 

“Not that I don’t love the night dates, but I assume this means you haven’t told your dad about us yet.”

“I haven’t, no,” Gilan responds easily. A heat rises to his cheeks as he realizes what he’s said, and he rushes to clarify. “I mean- I haven’t written to my father in a while- so no, not really-” 

Lewis cuts him off, looking up at him with one eyebrow raised. “You and I both know that I’m talking about Halt.” 

Gilan thinks his face might actually, physically be on fire. “He’s not my dad.”

Lewis rolls his eyes. “Yeah, and I’m the all-famed Royal Queen of Celtica.” He nudges Gilan. “You practically do everything with the man- even _live_ with him.” There’s a pause. “You care about him.” 

“ _Halt?_ We’re talking about the same man here, right? I’m not sure I’ve said a good word about him in my life. It’s always _Gilan, get the dishes,_ and _Gilan, chop the firewood,_ and _Gilan, fetch some water_ ,” he blusters.

An eyebrow is raised at him as Lewis pitches his voice lower in an impressive imitation of Gilan. “We ran into a bit of trouble earlier, but Halt took care of it- He hit two of those bandits, square in the chest, just like that- can you believe it?” Lewis is waving his hands in the air to emphasize his words now. “He’s just so _amazing_ and _legendary_ and really, I don’t know what I’d do without him half of the time-” 

“Alright, alright! I get it.” Gilan has most definitely gone red at this point, and Lewis’ laughter rings out around the clearing. “You’re hilarious,” he grumbles. 

“Aww, don’t be angry just because I’m right.” Lewis is grinning, and Gilan’s sigh ruffles his hair.

Gilan shakes his head. “I can’t believe I have such a jerk for a boyfriend.” Lewis shrugs. 

“It’s your own fault. You could’ve chosen anyone, but instead, you chose some refugee from the Middle Kingdoms. Always looking for trouble.” 

Gilan raises an eyebrow at that. “Now that you mention it, I do seem to remember taking in a man I didn’t know- when I was already a refugee from a different country who was in an unstable environment, mind you- in order to heal him, not because I owed him anything, just because. I was _definitely_ looking for trouble there.” There’s a dramatic pause. “Oh, wait. That was you.” 

Lewis makes a face. “That’s _different_. I took an oath to care for the sick.” He looks at Gilan reproachfully. “You just happen to fall into that category quite often.” 

Gilan smirks. “What’s my diagnosis, then, doctor? Too attractive for the populace to handle?” There’s a flick to his forehead, and he recoils a little, pouting.

“Not if you keep that up.” 

Gilan shakes his head in offense. “I can’t believe you would betray me like this. After all this time… the years of friendship, camaraderie… I _trusted_ you, Lewis, I believe I may have even… _loved_ you.” 

Lewis sniffs, barely suppressing a yawn and shifting on top of Gilan. There’s a small smile on his face, from where Gilan can see it. “Shut up, we’ve been dating for two entire years and I’m tired.” Gilan looks up at the sky, and oh, _wow_ , it’s a lot later than he thought it’d be. Gilan looks down at Lewis again, and something in him melts at the sight of his boyfriend, curled up against him. _Never gets old._

He tucks the cloak tighter around Lewis once more, pressing a kiss into his hair. “Go to sleep,” he says gently. “I’ll still be here in the morning.” 

“Love you,” Lewis mumbles.

A smile twitches at Gilan’s lips. “You’ve said.”

“I can say it again. Asshole.” Lewis’ voice is sleepy, and Gilan has the urge to wrap him up tight and hold him. (Which he’s already doing, so.

Score.)

“I know. Sweet dreams.” 

A comfortable silence settles over them, and it’s not until long after Lewis is asleep that Gilan whispers the words into the night air like it’s some kind of precious secret.

“I love you, too.”

\--

Gilan wakes up to a rustle of sounds. He yawns, sitting up and rubbing at his eyes. Lewis waves him off the blanket, folding it into a neat square. “Morning,” Gilan says, voice still rough with sleep. 

“Morning.” Lewis tucks the blanket under his arm, combing his fingers through his hair. It looks maybe half-presentable now, which is good, because Lewis has to go into town to get home. Gilan doesn’t have to bother with anything like that- he can always pull up his hood and stay out of sight, and besides, it’s only a short distance back to the cabin through the woods. He stands up, brushing himself off. 

“I should get going. Halt’ll kill me if he finds out I’ve been out at night.” Gilan’s about to leave, because really, it’s a lot later than he intended to wake up, but Lewis calls for him to stop.

He unfastens Gilan’s cloak from around his neck and settles it back onto Gilan’s shoulders with a flourish, redoing the clasp easily. “You almost forgot this.” 

GIlan smiles softly, pulling Lewis into a quick kiss. “I’ll see you in a few days?”

Lewis fixes his collar. “My place, Wednesday- try not to get caught.”

“You know I never back down from a challenge.” Gilan stumbles a little bit as Lewis pushes gently at his chest, sending him off towards the edge of the clearing. 

“Get going,” he admonishes. 

Gilan grins, turning the stumble into a smooth step, easily sliding into the cover of the trees. “Wednesday it is, then.”

“You’d better be there.”

\--

As Gilan nears the cabin, he begins to notice that something is wrong. 

The water barrel outside the front door is full, and the firewood is already chopped. A pit of dread settles itself into his stomach as his heart beats faster in his chest. He slips around to the back of the house, lets himself in through his window, opens his door, and-

There’s Halt at the kitchen table, staring directly at him and sipping his coffee.

Gilan’s stomach flips, heart jumping into his throat because what if he _knows Halt always knows what’llhesayifheknows-_ “You’re not usually up this early, Halt.” He takes a deep breath. There’s always a chance he can pass it off as some kind of rebellion, an act of defiance, maybe.

“You’re not usually wearing your cloak when you come out of your room in the morning.” Halt motions with his head to the chair next to him, and Gilan’s hand clenches on the doorframe for a second as he sizes up the situation instinctively, taking in his chances, but the Ranger cabins were made to be defensible. In less than an instant, he already knows he’s lost. 

Gilan takes a seat as Halt gets up, passing him a mug of coffee and moving around the kitchen to get started on breakfast. It’s warm in his hands. He doesn’t take a sip, the churning in his stomach too violent for him to so much as _think_ about eating or drinking anything. “A few years back, there was talk of a healer that came from the Middle Kingdoms,” Halt says mildly. 

Gilan tenses, his fingers turning white around the cup. “I must have missed that. All the practice, and all.” The words are lighthearted, but his voice is low and nervous.

Halt turns around, pot in hand. He raises an eyebrow, and Gilan looks away from him. “Strange. I seem to remember that you were on a mission near the Middle Kingdoms at the time. Just before, in fact.” 

“What are you implying?”

Halt pauses for a second to toss some meat onto the pan. “I’m not implying anything. I just want to know why you left a scalpel on the table yesterday morning.” 

Gilan freezes before patting himself down, and oh, _fuck_ , it’s gone-

Halt slides a plate of food onto the table in front of him, setting down the scalpel with it, thank the gods.

Gilan pockets it quickly, and Halt fixes him with a look, settling into the chair across from him. “You’ve been sneaking out to see him, then.” 

The food looks good, it does, but Gilan can’t bring himself to do more than pick at it with Halt right there, staring straight at him. “...You could say that.” He chances a look up at Halt, feels his stomach twist at the disapproving look there. “You don’t- care, do you?”

Halt sounds like he’s frowning when he speaks next, and Gilan winces. “I’m not _thrilled_ , obviously.” The words hit Gilan like a punch to the gut, and he swallows through the heavy lump in his throat. His head spins because what’ll he do, what will Lewis think, how will he _see_ Lewis at all oh god- “After all,” Halt cuts his thoughts short, “we can’t have you missing out on your beauty sleep.” Gilan stops. Does he mean- “If you mean the fact that he’s a man, then I couldn’t care less, really. But I won’t have you showing up to training half-asleep.”

Relief floods through Gilan’s body in waves, tension easing. Halt is silent for a moment. “That’s what you were nervous about.” Gilan shifts uncomfortably underneath his gaze. “Gilan…” Halt’s voice is soft, quiet, and Gilan doesn’t notice Halt stepping closer until he’s wrapped up in a hug, tucked in warm and safe. He rests his head on Halt’s chest, letting out an almost-inaudible sigh. “Of all things to be worried about, I’d hardly be angry about _that_.”

“...Really?” Gilan’s voice comes out more vulnerable than he wanted it to be, but there’s only Halt around to hear it anyways. The word is muffled in the fabric of Halt’s shirt.

“Of course.” Halt pauses. “However, I _do_ want to talk about your leaving late at night.” 

Gilan groans, pulling away. “Sometimes I really wonder why I haven’t quit my apprenticeship yet.”

Halt raises an eyebrow at him, leaning back against the table and crossing his arms. “Rangers wake up early, Gilan, you have to get all the sleep you can. Making a mistake in the field could be-”

“Fatal, I know.” Gilan cuts him off. At a look from Halt, he rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “It won’t happen again, I just… didn’t know how else to see him.” 

“He’s stationed in the Redmont medical division, isn’t he?” At Gilan’s nod, Halt continues. “Then he’s staying close by anyways- you could visit him, if you finished your training early.” His joy must be showing in his expression, because a small smile makes its way onto Halt’s face.

“Thank you, Halt.” Both of them know that he’s referring to more than the promise of time off. Halt grips Gilan’s shoulder, squeezing gently. 

“Anytime.” He makes his way back to his plate, settling back into his seat. “Now, while we eat, you can tell me all about this boy of yours.”

“ _Halt_ ,” Gilan makes a face, “don’t call him that.” Halt chuckles, quiet and low.

Despite all of Gilan’s complaining, there’s a part of him that settles contentedly, warm at the idea that Halt supports him, cares about him.

Here, in his little cabin, knowing that somewhere, going about his life, is Lewis, expecting him to visit soon-

Well.

It feels like home.

**Author's Note:**

> yall this took so long to write i hope u liked it, i accept concrit


End file.
